Bratwursts and Poets
by oystersweet
Summary: Ginger; cardigan wearing, long time cake eater, possible bathroom pervert. Seth; sarcastic, a little sweet, might be a wolf. Clearly a relationship built for success.
1. The Bathroom

_Author's Note: Hello pals. Don't really know what to say, which is strange because usually I don't shut up. Obviously it would be really great if you could review this and pretend you like it, but I'm not going to nag you too much because I'm polite. _

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Just as all bad stories start – I was drunk and crying in a bathtub. Obviously the situation wasn't ideal, especially seeing as the bathroom didn't have a lock and I had to be really quiet so I wouldn't be discovered. I didn't want anyone to find me crying in a bathtub because, oh – how sad is that? But really, I was much more concerned about the negative connotations that accompany listening to people do their 'business.' The last thing I needed, apart from more alcohol, was to be labeled as some sort of bathroom pervert.

I could imagine how bad it would be, being not only one of the only recent graduates who couldn't get into college, but also a bathroom pervert. I wasn't entirely upset about college though – or lack of college, I should say. That wasn't the reason I way crying in the bathroom. I wasn't crying about the job I would be due to start soon either, even though it was quite a sad job. I wasn't even sad that my future career options would most likely lie in a frozen yogurt store.

What I was crying about was too painful to think of, especially when there was a tap poking into my back and a person urinating to the left of me. I wanted to get out of the bathroom – I really did. It's quite hard to feel sorry for yourself when there is someone else, presumably half-naked and unaware of your presence, in the room. That train of thought is what encouraged me to use the window. I mean obviously I couldn't use the door to leave. Judging by the sounds from outside the bathroom, most of the party had moved inside, making it impossible to leave without being noticed. If I were noticed I could imagine the questions; "I didn't see you go into the bathroom," and "what are you – some kind of bathroom pervert?"

It wasn't a particularly large window either; at least it wasn't large enough for my particularly large bottom. It wasn't even large in a good way either – not the large ass in yoga pants kind of large. It was more of a 'too many cakes' kind of large, which made it quite difficult to shimmy yourself out of a window. I did make it out, however, and lost my balance because of course those kinds of things happen to me.

I almost did a tremendous flip trying to scramble back into the window, flailing my limbs around in what I'm sure was an attractive manner. I landed in some unfortunately placed petunias at the bottom of the window. I wouldn't say they broke my fall (because my large ass was killing me, despite being so, well, large) but they were broken in the sense that the flowers had gone all limp and pathetic-looking.

I made the mistake (the mistake other than jumping out a window) of assuming nobody had seen. I brushed soil off me in a last attempt of dignity and caught a group of attractive boys – well, men really, staring at me. Not in the flattering way though, it was all raised eyebrows and sympathetic looks. None of those, "I'd hit that if she didn't just jump out a window" sorts of looks either. I caught the eyes of one in particular, and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. He exclaimed something that I couldn't hear to the group and they all looked at him, a little surprised.

It was all quite peculiar and suspicious, so I did my best at trying to shuffle away before I was murdered. The boy with the abnormally arched eyebrows spotted me and started to make his way over. I did my best not to look around nervously for a weapon, or a good hiding place.

"You just fell out of a window." He told me, as if I didn't know.

I looked at him. "I prefer gracefully catapulted from a window, actually."

He looked as though he was stuck between laughing and uncomfortably edging away. I did notice how good looking he way though. He had cropped hair and this smooth copper skin that made my insides go all fluttery. He was, however, in the dark, and I wasn't wearing my glasses so for all I knew, he could be marginally disfigured.

"I'm Seth." He said, holding out a hand.

I stared at the hand, wondering what to do with it.

"Do you want me to shake your hand?" I asked him, slightly perplexed. "That's so –"

"Normal? Handshakes are quite a common gesture in Western culture, I believe." He said, looking at me in a strange way.

"I was going to say mature. Adults shake hands, and I don't know about you but I do not class myself as an adult." I told him firmly.

"You must be at least seventeen or eighteen." He said in exasperation. "How can you not class yourself as an adult?"

"I barely even know how to tie my shoes, let alone pay bills and understand taxes!" I exclaimed.

That got a laugh from him, even though I was completely serious. I still lived with my Gran and couldn't keep my room tidy. I was barely independent and my only link to freedom was a beat-up car I still had to pay my Gran back for.

"Your name at least?" He asked.

"Oh," I said, obviously lacking in the common sense and memory department. "Ginger. I'm Ginger."

"You don't look like a Ginger." He said, eyes trailing up to the dishwater blonde mop on my head.

"Idiot colorblind parents who should obviously be reported to social services." I explained briefly. I've had this conversation many times before.

"I'm joking about the social services thing," I told him quickly when his eyebrows did that raising thing again.

"I assumed." He nodded. "However, I'd like to know if we're going to address the whole throwing yourself out of a window thing."

"Oh – _that." _I said, as if I had forgotten all about it. "I was stuck in a bathtub and didn't want to look like a bathroom pervert."

"I do have quite a few questions about that. Firstly, why were you stuck in a bath?"

"I wouldn't say _stuck_, I mean my ass is quite large-" I paused to let my face go an unattractive shade of red. "However, I wasn't stuck in the bath in the sense that I couldn't get out. I mean, maybe metaphorically I couldn't get out except I don't know what metaphorically means. I was just crying and I'm not a bathroom pervert. I'm really not."

"Why were you crying?" He asked, surprising me with a concerned expression.

I surveyed him critically, and leaned a little closer. "It just so happens that my best friend, Magus, is gay. It just so happens that I am convinced I am in love with him."

"And you thought the best course of action was to cry in the bathroom like a bathroom pervert?" He asked.

"I'm not known for my logical thinking." I told him dryly.

"That's quite apparent." He said with an annoying smirk.

I supposed that was my queue to leave and find Magus, who I supposed was looking for me now and did not have the sense to check the bathtub. He's always been quite useless by himself, and I'm also meant to be staying at his house tonight. These arrangements were obviously made before he came out to me after a couple of drinks and I had broken down in the bathroom.

"Well, this has been really – er, something." I said uncomfortably, shuffling away a bit. "But I should leave. Places to be, people to do and all that."

"People to do?" He asked quizzically, eyebrows raised.

I backed away a bit more, hoping I'd fall off a cliff or suffer a fatal accident just to avoid further embarrassment.

"Can I at least get your number or something?" He asked, giving me a hopeful glance.

I blinked a couple of times. "My number? For what?"

"To contact you – obviously. Regular people do this over something called a telephone, which is this device that –"

In order to shut him up, I scrawled my number sloppily on his arm. In a way I hoped it faded or smudged off, seeing as I turned into an ineloquent fool around this guy. But in another way, I also hoped he'd call me within five minutes and beg me to have his babies.

After escaping the awkward encounter, I started my search for Magus. Usually he's quite difficult to find and requires a search party to look for him, especially when he's drunk. One I found him in a cupboard under a sink, passed out.

Obviously his exceptional hide-and-seek skills aren't the reason I'm convinced I'm in love with him, although they do add to his appeal. He introduced me to obscure bands, old knitted cardigans and milky tea. He works in an old bookshop and reads Russian literature, and although I'm convinced he's slightly pretentious, he's also probably a genius.

I did end up finding him crouched under a table, of all places. I joined him, not even questioning why he was under a table, seeing as I was hiding in a bathtub not too long ago.

"Pleasant evening?" I asked, handing him a beer.

"I was looking for you," He told me. "And yes, I've got a killer headache though."

"I'm sure it will be worse by the morning." I assured him kindly.

I took a sip of his beer and gave me a look of scrutiny. "You look way too pleased. Usually your face is all unpleasant and scrunched up."

"Someone asked me for my number." I said, trying not to feel the sting of unattractiveness.

"Someone being an actual boy?" He asked, sounding impressed. "Was he cute?"

"Yes, he looked quite old but you know how I like my men like fine wine – matured." I lied, because obviously I like my men gay.

"Please don't try to seduce my dad or anything when we get back to mine." He said.

"Speaking of which, can we leave now?" I asked, because the music was bad and there were too many of my peers here.

"I suppose so. You don't mind walking do you?" He said, crawling out from under the table.

"Only if we can hedge-hop on the way home?"

Hedge-hopping was a long time tradition that usually only happened when we were intoxicated, even more uncoordinated, and had a limited moral compass. Hedge-hopping was just as it sounded; running as fast as you can at a hedge and launching yourself over the top. It's much more idiotic than it sounds.

"Obviously." He said, giving me a doubtful look for even asking.

We left without saying goodbye because we figure nobody would remember or really care. I was only invited to these things through Magus because I had a tendency to be useless at getting along with a majority of my peers.

The walk home was the usual affair, mostly. As per usual, Magus and I competed for most hedges hopped, toppled over a couple of times and shushed each other a fair bit. Unusually, however, I couldn't help think of Seth and if he was really going to call.


	2. The Trees

_Author's Note: Hello again, thanks for the read and all that. Do appreciate that I am putting off my university homework to write this, so the least you could do is leave me a juicy review. _

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It felt like my head was going to explode, and I honestly wished it would just so I couldn't feel my brain dribbling out my ears anymore. It was about five in the morning, meaning I had had a solid three hours sleep. There was a sliver of dull light crawling through Magus's curtains and I mentally cursed him for having bad curtains, and also for making me convince myself that I loved him.

He was still asleep, obviously, because who wouldn't be apart from me. His face was pale, and eyelashes long and I felt my insides go all wobbly and my face scrunch up in that unattractive way. I had slept next to him in a very platonic way, apart from the fact that I wanted to reach over and pull off his clothes. So, platonic for him at least.

Magus's room always smelled a way that can only be described as boy smell. It was cluttered with books and hand-scrawled notes reminding him of his mother's birthday and days we planned to meet up. The only corner of his room that was carefully arranged was the one across from the window that contained his record player and vinyl collection. Most of the records belonged to his dad, but a couple were from me and a few were found in a charity shop.

We'd spent so much time in here. Listening to his records, storing alcohol under his bed and all the usual shenanigans. Apart from the whole being in love with my gay best friend thing, there was another problem that intervened with our friendship. Magus, unlike me, was going away to college in a couple of days.

Neither of us had addressed it. We just let it float around like the big, uncomfortable elephant in the room. For the moment we were sort of pretending that I'd be able to fit snugly in one of his bags and join him for more hedge-hopping in New York.

New York. Honestly, I should really think before I decide to become friends with someone who is far more intelligent than I am. Magus is going to study literature and become a famous author and go to famous parties and talk about "some girl from my hometown who I've forgotten the name of."

On the other hand, my talents lie with serving frozen yogurt. Magus commented that I was quite lucky to even get a job, seeing as my special skills included drinking corpus amounts of alcohol and making a fool out of myself. I suppose he was right, but I didn't particularly want to serve frozen yogurt the rest of my life, especially seeing as I preferred ice cream.

I shuffled quietly out of Magus's bed and collected my cardigan from the floor. I found one of my shoes under his bed and the other sprawled on the other side of the room. Obviously walking home at five in the morning wasn't the most appealing of situations, however I didn't want to hang around for the next seven hours, seeing as Magus only ever wakes up after noon.

I used the front door, seeing as it locked behind you and made my way up the deserted street. It wasn't too bad – this whole walking business, even though I had never really been one for physical activity. However, it was still cold and dark and after a while, when the cold air was starting to sting, I was almost regretting the decision.

I couldn't help but feel as though I needed a strong cup of tea, or even another drink. Which might suggest I have a bit of a problem, but like most important things, I ignored it.

I was walking past a section of dense forest when I heard some rustling. Obviously I was terrified and was quite close to sprinting away when I realized I'd much prefer to be murdered than to run. I was stuck in that awkward fight or flight decision. I am uselessly weak and also hopelessly slow, so the most beneficial thing I could do was stand still and pretend to be a tree.

I expected an axe-wielding psychopath to leap out, but was surprised to see a shirtless man stumble out from behind the trees. He looked vaguely familiar, but also looked as though he had spent the night in a hedge.

"Ah – Ginger!" He said, feigning unconvincing surprise. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Then it clicked. I saw my number scribbled on his arm and it hadn't faded one bit.

"Are you following me, or are you homeless and just happen to live in this particular part of the forest?" I asked.

"Following you?" He repeated. "No, I just happed to be on a run."

Running? Exercise? I gave him a disgusted look. The least he could do was cover his nauseatingly defined chest and put a shirt on or something. Looking at muscles so early in the morning wasn't doing that much for my self-esteem.

"Don't talk to me about physical exertion." I tell him wearily. "I might be sick everywhere."

"Not one for hangovers?" He asked sympathetically.

I glared at him. "You're the one who looks like you've slept in a bush."

"Then why do you have twigs stuck in your cardigan?" He said smugly.

He was right, of course. I assumed it was from my spectacular misjudgment of my own leaping abilities that caused me to collide with a particularly high hedge the night before. Magus had to help pull me out.

"That's the fashion these days." I quipped back at him.

"_These days_?" He laughed. "Honestly – how old are you? You sound as though you're in your sixties."

I rolled my eyes at him and began to continue on my way home. I had a hot shower and warm cup of tea waiting for me, and no leaping out from behind trees was going to get in my way.

"Where are you going?" He asked, catching up to me.

"Home, and please don't follow me to my house and show up a week later to murder me. I'm starting a new job soon." I asked as politely as you can ask someone not to murder you.

"Why would I murder you?" He said, slightly perplexed.

"Well you did just leap out from behind a tree. I'd say your actions are quite questionable at the moment." I told him, giving him a nervous sideways glance.

"You're walking home at about six in the morning. I'd say your actions are much more questionable." He teased.

The sun had begun to squeeze through cracks between the clouds. The air was still fresh and a frost hung in the air as if it were about to rain. Transparent shadows cast before us as we walked side-by-side.

"You're the one who's following me home." I told him in a resigned sort of way.

"I'm not following you. I'm just trying to make sure you get home safely." He said.

"Yeah," I smirked. "I heard there's some homeless guy who leaps out from behind trees on the loose. Got to watch out for him."

"I'm not homeless," He told me with a slightly exasperated expression. "I live in La Push."

"That's a twenty minute drive from here," I noted suspiciously. "Why are you running here?"

"Er – the scenery is nicer?" He tried, looking at me hopefully.

I sighed. "Please don't cut off a lock of my hair or anything."

"Honestly," He said. "After the party last night I must have fallen asleep in the forest or something and then I heard someone walk past so I just sort of leapt out."

"While that is a convincing story," I started, coming to a halt. "This is my house, and I am going inside and locking the door because I'm a bit worried about my personal safety."

My house was quite small, and almost crooked looking. It was two stories and painted a cheerful blue, but was almost swallowed by the garden that grew around it. The porch was littered with ferns and potted plants, several newspapers, and an ancient couch. It looked more like an overgrown hoarder breeding ground than a house.

"This is," Seth said as he struggled to think of a nice word. "Quaint."

"Yes, truly five stars." I said, walking towards the door. "Goodbye, Seth. Try not to murder my family."

"I'll do my best." He said, and I supposed it was some sort of goodbye.

I couldn't help but grin when I locked the door. I didn't mind if he broke into my house, just as long as he was shirtless.


	3. The Friend

_Author's Note: Hello again, here's quite a mediocre chapter that I thought I'd spew out quickly before my university course load gets quite heavy (oh wait - it already is). Enjoy, thanks for the feedback._

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The house was dark, barely illuminated by the rising sun. I quickly looked through the peephole; actually concerned Seth would be trying to picklock the door or something as equally terrifying. He was, however, walking back the way we had come.

Just like the outside, the house was disturbingly unorganized and cluttered. The coffee table was strewn with unfinished books and week old newspapers. I nearly tripped over a pair of shoes when I walked through the entryway. They were my shoes, but nonetheless.

The house belonged to my Gran, who my sister and I were staying with temporarily. Temporarily being the last ten years, and also a term that was loosely used by my parents. They were wildlife photographers for some academic magazine and dumped my sister and I with our Gran. Temporarily, of course.

Despite giving me justified reason to dislike them, I thought my parents were pretty decent. They sent me postcards and couldn't tell me to clean my room because they were in another country. That's what I call a good family relationship.

My Gran on the other hand was surly and disappointed enough for both of them. She often shuffled around the house, muttering things like "I should have never gotten your mother that camera." Really added a cheerful influence to the house.

I ended up making a cup of tea and ignoring the shower because hygiene was for emotionally stable people. I made my way up the stairs, careful to stomp past my Gran's room, hoping to wake her up, and shuffled to the end of the hall.

I had the room overlooking the garden, which wasn't necessarily a good thing seeing as the garden wasn't particularly pleasant. The room was small and crammed with books, drawings, paintings and half-dead pot plants. There were photos of Magus and I tacked to the wall, a handwritten note from Magus passed to me in science class last year, and postcards from my absent parents.

I hobbled to the bed, tea sloping over the sides of the mug, and carefully sat down. It was odd to think that the last eighteen years of my life had been carelessly pinned to the wall and strewn over the floor. There was a notebook in my bedside table, for example, containing poems I had written when I was about thirteen. That was horrifying to think about.

I sipped my tea and squinted against the light that was finally starting to emerge through my window. I stood up to close my curtains when something caught my eye. A wolf, sitting on the edge of the forest, staring in my direction.

I narrowed my eyes at it and pulled my curtains closed.

"Christ." I muttered, rubbing my eyes. "I need some sleep."

I did, eventually, get to sleep. However, I was woken by Gran, storming into my room, falling over a pile of books, complaining about her ancient bones and telling me I had a phone call. Typical.

We lived in one of those out of touch towns where almost nobody but actual adults had mobiles or anything that might be beneficial. Gran, my sister, and I all shared the same phone, which could be considered child abuse or something similar.

I placed the receiver to my ear, suspecting Magus and only hoping it was Seth.

"Hey, you left." Magus said from the other end of the line.

I glanced at the clock. "It took you until two in the afternoon to figure that out."

"I only just got up, obviously." He sighed. "Dad woke me up, actually. Yelling about responsibilities and the like."

"What are those?" I joked, leaning against the wall.

"Well, for instance," He started. "It is your responsibility to tell me what happened last night because I can't remember."

"Last night?" I repeated, straining my memory. "I vaguely remember leaping out of a window, catapulting into a hedge, and talking to a cute boy who I am convinced is stalking me."

"What makes you think that?" Magus asked, a little doubtful.

"He leapt out from behind some trees this morning," I said. "Told me he was on a run even though he lives in La Push."

"Christ." He muttered. "Watch out for that. Speaking of sexual escapades though, I think I may have definitely kissed Charlie last night."

That made my heart feel tight, and my legs feel all wobbly, like they couldn't support my weight. I leaned further into the wall, hoping it would swallow me, and let out a laugh as though nothing was wrong.

"Charlie Green?" I said. "No wonder I found you hiding under the table. I would feel embarrassed too."

"So I _was_ hiding under the table." Magus chuckled, and there was a slight pause. "Ginger, I actually called you to talk about something else."

He knew, he definitely knew. I'm not an inconspicuous person by nature, and I'm certainly bad at hiding things. Obviously he was going to gently remind me he was attracted to men, and despite how manly I looked, I had the wrong bodily parts that would make the relationship functional.

"I'm leaving in four days." He said quietly.

"Oh that's nice," I said, relieved he wasn't talking about me most certainly being in love with him. "Are you going on a holiday?"

"If you call college a holiday, which a lot of people do." He said, half amused.

"Oh – right." I said. "That."

"That." He repeated. "Obviously it would be great if I could pack you in my suitcase but it seems you have other obligations involving a frozen yogurt store."

"And also, realistically, I'd probably suffocate and die and you'd have to explain to my Gran – actually, I think she'd be quite pleased." I trailed off.

"I'll call you, and write letters too because I've always wanted a pen pal." He told me, ignoring my last statement.

"As if I'd be able to read your handwriting." I teased.

"Catch up soon?" He asked. "Dad wants to show me how to 'properly' pack a suitcase, whatever that means."

"Bye." I said, but he'd already hung up.


	4. The Telephone

_Author's Note: Whoops, this is short. However you were all so nice in your reviews that I really wanted to write something (apart from my assignments), so here's a little bit more. I promise the next chapter will be juicier when I get around to it._

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Just as soon as I placed the phone on the hanger it rang again. I grinned, deciding that Magus was calling to apologize for hanging up on me.

"I don't accept your apology, loser." I said, placing the phone next to my ear.

"What did I do wrong?" Asked a completely different voice.

"Depends on who you are." I said, a little surprised.

"It's Seth," He told me. "From behind the trees?"

"Is that a sex euphemism?" I asked, obviously joking.

I could hear Seth getting all flustered and embarrassed on the other end of the line. Men are so prudish. I coiled the phone cord around my finger and watched my Gran walk into the kitchen. Although it was more of a stomp than a walk.

"Did I hear the phone ring?" She asked.

"No, I'm actually just standing here with the phone against my ear because nobody called." I tell her, hoping she'd laugh and tell me I should be a comedian.

She made that half constipated face she often liked to make when talking to me. "Well who is it?"

"I'm talking to my forty-year old lover. We're figuring out how to tell his wife that I'm pregnant." I said, giving Gran a pleasant smile.

A brief glimpse of fury clouded her face when she assumed I was telling the truth. She eventually settled on that constipated face and said; "Well, hurry up – I'm expecting a call. It's not your own personal phone line."

"Great – if they call I'll tell them you're not home." I said.

She stormed out again with her usual wrath and I waited a few moments before placing the receiver against my ear again.

"Sorry about that," I said apologetically. "I'm actually living in an insane asylum at the moment."

"Your mother – I assume?" He said, sounding amused.

I made a disgusted face. "If my Gran was actually my mum I'd hope I was adopted."

"Good to know." He said before pausing briefly. "And, just so you know, I'm not forty. I'm twenty-two."

"Twenty-two?" I asked. "You might as well be forty, possibly even older. I can hook you up with my Gran, if you're interested?"

"Sorry." He said. "I'm more interested in ladies one-hundred years and older."

I tried not to gag at the mental image, unsuccessfully of course.

"She's probably four hundred years old and most likely immortal and maybe not human either." I said.

He laughed, before adding; "Apart from calling to hook up with your Gran, I was wondering if you wanted to go somewhere tomorrow?"

It was obvious he wanted my number for something like this, but it still surprised me. It seemed more likely he'd call and ask me if I wanted to be his line-dancing partner than asking me on a date. I leaned against the wall and thought about Magus. Even though he was gay, uninterested, and leaving probably forever, saying yes seemed almost like a betrayal to him. However, it's not like I was in any position to turn down friends, let alone a date with anyone.

"Double-date? You and my Gran, me and Brad Pitt?" I said to cover my surprise.

"Obviously." Seth said, although it was pretty easy to sense the nervousness in his voice.

"Sounds good." I told him, trying not to think of Magus. "I'll leave Gran at home though."

"Great. If she were there I don't think I'd be able to resist." He laughed. "Also, I'm not going to tell you where we're going."

"Not behind any trees, I hope." I said.

"Depends on how the mood is." He said suggestively. I could almost see him winking on the other end of the phone.

I grimaced. "The mood will be terrible if you say anything else as lame as that."

"How about; are you from Kenya?" He said. "Because Kenya date me?"

"No, I am not from Kenya." I said, trying not to laugh. "And no, I will not date you anymore."

"I'll pick you up at five in the afternoon then?" He asked.

I paused briefly. "I'll probably be up by then. See you tomorrow."

I hung up the phone and lingered a little. He was nice, and also twenty-two. I suppose if things go well I could probably seduce him and he'd buy Magus and I alcohol, instead of the usual watering down Magus's dad's whisky. Or we'd get married and we'd have babies even though I hate children and will never have them.

I walked into the lounge room and found my little sister, Molly, perched on the couch, nose in a book. Like me, Molly had inherited the hideous dishwater blonde hair, however, she was also a lot more attractive, thinner, and smarter than I was, so she had that going for her.

"Morning, Molly." I told her kindly.

"It's past two in the afternoon," She said, not looking up. "Dimwit."

She was also going through puberty, and I sincerely hoped she got acne. I decided not to resort to physical violence and simply rolled my eyes as I passed her and headed towards the stairs.

"By the way," She said just as I was about to leave the room. "Brad Pitt isn't even that attractive anymore."

I'm convinced there is no way Brad Pitt cannot be attractive. I don't care if he's a hundred years old and on his deathbed, if he asked me to, I would definitely go there.

"To be young and naïve." I sighed, making a quick exit.


	5. The Forest

_Author's Note: Surprisingly, all of you like Ginger. I do too, however I may be a little bias. As promised, this chapter is juicy and I am almost happy with it - I hope you are too. Thanks for the reviews - they got me through two assignments and an academic breakdown. Keep them coming (please). _

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"You look homeless." Magus said with a sigh.

I had thrown a lumpy knitted cardigan over an old band t-shirt that was three sizes too big, a plaid pleated skirt, an odd pair of argyle socks, and some secondhand boots. My glasses were perched on the end of my nose. The entire ensemble gave me the appearance of a homeless heroin addicted librarian. So, yes, technically he was correct, although I wasn't about to admit that.

"That's rude, isn't it?" I said. "You're gay, aren't you? In a stereotypical sense, you're meant to be good at this thing."

"Quite honestly, your Gran is probably better at this sort of thing." He said, rummaging through my wardrobe.

I contemplated the mirror. My hair, at least, looked decent enough. It wasn't as frizzy as usual, however, that could be credited to some product I stole from Molly. Not like she needed it.

"You know," I said, still glancing at the mirror. "If I keep my face entirely expressionless, I could probably pass as quite hip."

"Don't say hip." Magus answered, not even turning around. "Or else I'll break yours."

I ignored him. "I'll consider changing the socks but nothing else."

"That's at least a start." He mumbled, moving towards my sock draw.

I hadn't really needed Magus's help with finding an outfit, and he should have assumed I'd ignore his input. I had, however, wanted to spend time with him, which made me feel awful for Seth, who was supposed to pick me up in half an hour. Typically, I'm not interested in thirty boys at once and rotate boyfriends weekly, but I assumed it would be best to move on from my homosexual best friend.

"Are you going to take a bag?" He asked, handing me a plain pair of matching socks.

"Why would I?" I snorted. "This skirt has pockets."

Magus gave me a disgusted look. "That skirt should be burned."

I sighed and shoved some money into my practical skirt pockets, as if to prove my point, and sat next to Magus on the bed. I could feel his shoulder brush against mine, and tried not to think about how it made my skin feel tingly.

"I can't believe you're going on a date." He said conversationally.

"What do people even do on dates?" I asked. "It's not like we can make out for five hours straight."

"I think you're meant to talk to him," He said with a smile. "Generally, that is. However any date with you is going to be completely out of the norm."

"What do you mean out of the norm?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's not like we're going to go skydiving on the moon or anything."

"I don't know." He laughed. "He is quite old though, you guys might go play lawn bowls or bingo or something."

"I probably should bring Gran along if that's the case." I mused. "She needs to get out more, I don't think she's ever left the house."

Magus laughed and we fell into a comfortable silence. I, however, was eyeing the clock nervously. I hadn't really been on a date before, and I certainly wasn't prepared to gaze into anyone's eyes over a candle-lit dinner. If there were candles involved, I'd likely set on fire. Actually, if candles or something as equally lame were involved, I'd willingly set myself on fire.

"You'll be fine." He said softly. "I know you'll probably dry-retch if I tell you to be yourself so I wont."

"You know me so well." I sighed.

There was a knock on the door and I leapt up, nearly knocking Magus out as I did so. He clutched his head as I sprinted out the room.

"Make good decisions!" He yelled after me. "Use protection!"

Obviously I planned to murder him later, but I had bigger concerns at that point in time. I managed to shoo Gran away from the door, grateful she was too slow to open it before me. I didn't want Seth pursuing her instead.

I yanked the door open and was met with a nervous looking Seth.

"You look really nice." He said earnestly, shyly eyeing me.

"Yeah," I began sarcastically. "I usually wear this when I go dumpster diving."

"What an interesting hobby." He said, guesting for me to follow him to his beat-up looking car.

I couldn't help but notice how nice he looked. He was wearing a black t-shirt that was kind of tight in the abdominal area (not that I'm complaining) and around his arms, and a pair of jeans. The jeans were also tight in a certain area, which was why I was walking behind him.

"So I was thinking a candle-lit dinner?" He suggested, opening the car door for me. He glanced at my face and laughed. "I'm kidding, obviously."

I was a little concerned Seth was able to read minds, especially if he knew why I liked walking behind him. That would be difficult to explain.

"We will be eating though." He said as he got into the drivers seat.

"I have special dietary requirements." I said. "I only eat unborn children."

"Good, because I cooked all the food myself." He said with a wink before pausing as he put the key in the ignition. "Well, my mum helped."

"Your mum helped?" I asked disbelievingly. "What kind of elderly man still lives with his mother?"

He looked a little embarrassed and mumbled something about the economy as he pulled out of the driveway. I rolled my eyes but smiled nonetheless. Seth drove slowly and with the windows down, just like you'd expect from an old man. He was relentless with questions too, he asked about school, my work, and my family.

"Photographers?" He asked in surprise. "That's quite interesting, do you see much of them?"

"Last time I saw my parents," I said, pausing to think. "Christmas when I was eleven."

He glanced at me, looking a little sad. "Doesn't that bother you?"

"Not really, seeing as they can't bother me." I said, hoping he'd laugh. He, however, remained silent and looked pensively ahead. "They send me postcards."

"So it's just you and your attractive Gran?" He asked lightly, changing the subject.

"And my younger sister, Molly." I told him, suppressing a sigh. "She's a pain though."

"My sister is too – or was, I should say." He said, and when I looked at him curiously he added; "She ran away a couple of years ago."

"I suppose both of our families have a habit of running away." I said, although my tone wasn't sad.

"I don't though." He added, giving me a smile.

"Well, I'm not very good at running so I suppose that means I don't either." I said, grinning back.

He laughed and pulled off a main road and into a secluded track, surrounded by a dense canopy of forest. The sun, although dimmed by the clouds, had not set yet, and filtered through the cracks between the leaves.

"What is it with you a trees?" I asked quietly as the car came to a gradual stop.

Seth jumped out of the car, and before he reached my side I had already opened the door and climbed out. He seemed as though he were about to protest his chivalrous rights so I gave him a look.

"Unbelievable as it may seem, I am able to open car doors." I said. "However, if I suddenly lose the use of my hands, feel free. The thought was nice though."

He looked a little shocked for a couple of seconds, before giving me a warm smile. "I'll keep that in mind."

"However," I said, pausing to look at a sign signaling that we were at a hiking trial. "If we're walking far, I would not protest to being carried."

"I would be perfectly happy carrying you. It's only a ten minute walk though." He reassured me as he made his way to the back of the car to pull out a picnic basket.

It had rained earlier that day, and the loose dirt stuck to the bottom of my shoes. Seth walked ahead, offering his hand to help me over rough sections of the trail. His hand was warm, soft, and big against my palm. We made quiet conversation, and it was clear that Seth enjoyed the hushed atmosphere of the forest.

"Are you sure you're not planning to take me somewhere isolated to murder me?" I asked jokingly.

"Yeah," He laughed. "You're very perceptive Ginger."

"I like to think so." I muttered, averting my eyes from a particular area of his body.

He turned around and smiled at me, gesturing to follow him through a clump of trees. We reached a secluded overlook that looked down on the grizzly and grey sea. The waves clashed against the rocks below, and I could smell the trace of salt in the air.

"Planning to push me over the edge?" I asked, peering at the steep drop below.

"I was planning on enjoying your company." He said before grinning at me. "But we'll see how that goes."

He set to work unpacking the basket, and I watched him unload sandwiches, pasta, cake, fruit, and eventually ended up losing track of what food he had brought along as it piled up.

I gawked at the mountain of food and gave Seth an odd look. "Is anyone else joining us?"

"I'm a growing boy." He said defensively.

"I didn't realize men grew much after they hit seventy." I said, sitting down on the picnic blanket he unraveled.

He took a seat next to me. He was so close and warm, and as the sky turned shades darker and the temperature grew colder, I leaned into him. He was not as hard and muscular as I expected him to be. He was toned, but soft, and his woodsy scent was comforting, even though it reminded me of how he liked to leap out from behind trees.


	6. The Cliff

_Author's Note: Sorry, I think one or two of you may be a little mad. However, apart from my artwork, most of my university assignments are done. I should probably warn you I'm going to Europe for a month in July (because I'm fabulous) and obviously won't be able to write then. I'll try to sneeze a few more chapters out before then, I promise. _

* * *

I was surprised at how little I was embarrassing myself. Usually, by this point, I would have done something uncomfortable, like throwing myself out of a window. This may not have happened already because there were no windows around, but I'd prefer to believe it was because how easy it was to get along with Seth.

"Do you come here often?" I asked, glancing around at the dimly lit forest.

"A couple of my friends and I go cliff diving here." He nodded.

"Cliff diving?" I exclaimed. "I think I'll stick to window diving."

"Is that what you're calling it?" He said in a scornful tone.

"How much fun can throwing yourself off a cliff be?" I asked incredulously. "The most damage you can do with a window is a couple of broken ankles."

"It's really quite exhilarating." He said fondly, giving me a suspiciously excited look.

Quite suddenly he was standing up and pulling off his clothes. I could see all his muscles, and his annoyingly defined stomach. Anyone with a sliver over respect would divert their eyes, but I was not one of those people. It, however, wasn't too sexy when he fell over trying to take his shoes off.

"What kind of guy gets turned on from talking about jumping off a cliff?" I asked, trying to suppress a laugh.

He looked over his shoulder at me, obviously mortified. Even though it was dark, and his skin was russet coloured, he was definitely blushing.

"I'm not trying to sexually assault you or anything," He said quickly. "Just think it would be fun to jump off a cliff with you."

"Only if it's joint suicide." I muttered sarcastically, but began to feel self-conscious.

Did he expect me to rip my clothes off enthusiastically and throw myself off a cliff? Windows were one thing, and in that case I was fully clothed and a little delusional. It's not that I'm prudish and afraid of nudity, because I'm not, certainly if Seth is involved. It's just that the excess fat on my butt doesn't really stop there – it's all over. For the first time I wished I had the body of a prepubescent male. Just without the male parts.

"You can wear this if you want." Seth said, throwing me his shirt. "I won't look."

He seemed completely calm, standing in his boxers; as if it were the most normal thing he could be doing right now. He gave me one of his grins that seemed as though he only reserved them for me, and turned away, covering his eyes. I stared at the back of his head in surprise. I didn't assume regular men looked away politely while their dates got undressed.

"I am adventurous." I said, mostly to myself, as I stripped down to my underwear clumsily, before throwing his shirt over my head. "I do this sort of thing all the time."

I walked to his side, feeling surprisingly comfortable. Comfortable until I glanced over the edge of the cliff, obviously. The waves, silver from the moonlight, aggressively slammed against the rock face below. I gave Seth a skeptical look, as though to ask him if my company really made him want to jump off a cliff.

"I've done it lots of times, and I'm not dead." He tried to say encouragingly.

"Are you trying to get me to go cliff diving or offer me drugs?" I said, letting my face break out into a smile.

He took a hold of my hand in his big, warm one, and walked back a couple of paces. My bare feet were stained with mud, I was wearing a men's shirt, and my hair had twigs knotted into it, but Seth was still smiling at me, and I was smiling at him.

"Ready?" He asked, that tone of excitement still in his voice.

"Everyone's got to die sometime, right?" I said.

Then we were running. I didn't even stop at the edge because Seth was holding my hand, and he made me feel bold, adventurous, and carefree all at once. Then we were falling. The good kind of falling, where you know you'll be safe at the end, and there's a boy holding your hand, and you don't want to let go. Then we were submerged. I felt the water consume me, and I wanted to sink to the bottom and live there forever. It was calmer than I expected, more peaceful. The water was cold on my skin, but the kind of cold that wakes you up, and lets you realize that a boy is still holding your hand, even though you just fell through the air. The same boy who pulls you both to the surface because your legs feel like they have stopped working.

"It wasn't bad, right?" He said, gasping for air.

His hair was plastered against his forehead, and his skin seemed so smooth in the moonlight. He was ginning so widely that I could see one of his teeth was chipped, and how young and childish his face was. I couldn't help but smile back, and like him even more.

"There's quite a thrill in potentially falling to your death." I acknowledged as we swam to the edge of the cliff.

Due to my limits of physical exertion, it took us a while to climb back up the cliff and towards the car. I had a suspicion Seth's eyesight was particularly better than he was letting on, seeing as he could foresee every surfaced tree root I had the possibility of falling over.

"Aren't you cold?" I asked for what seemed like the hundredth time as we neared the car. "I feel bad about getting your shirt wet."

"I'm not cold." He said, brushing my concern off. "And as much as I would have liked to have seen you half-naked, that's strictly second date business."

He gave me a sly wink as he slipped into his side of the car.

"Second date, huh?" I said sarcastically as he started the car. "What makes you think jumping off a cliff warrants a second date?"

"As you said," He smiled, looking ahead at the road. "There's quite a thrill in potentially falling to your death. I like to think it really gets the ladies going."

I couldn't help but think he was right about that.


	7. The Cigarette

_Author's Note: Aren't I impressive? Two chapters in less than 24 hours. Granted, they are horribly short and just also horrible in general, plus this also suggests I lack a social life. Which I do. However, it's time for you to meet a couple of new characters. _

* * *

I woke up the next day with images of Seth, face immersed in the moonlight, stuck in my head. Even his scent, woodsy and deep, lingered around. I rubbed my forehead, eyes closed against the light. I had my first shift at work today, which I was definitely not ecstatic about.

The frozen yogurt store had given me quite possibly the largest shirt size they owned, as I presume they think I am morbidly obese. It was a bright blue and yellow button up that I shrugged over an old pleated skirt, and thick, wooly tights. I left my hair, which had gone frizzy overnight, typically, hanging down past my shoulders, and my face free of make up, seeing as I wasn't going anywhere that was particularly impressive.

By the time I had gotten three solid cups of tea into me, I was running quite late. I had considered calling Magus but, presumably, he would not be awake until noon. I wanted to discuss last night with someone who was not prepubescent or close to death, like Molly or Gran. I jumped into my car, which was likely to be as old as Gran, and sped to the store. Obviously I morally object to things such as speeding and dangerous driving, but only really when the chief of police isn't on the road. Police tend to be quite lenient in small towns, as long as you smile and ask questions about their families, they'll usually forget why they pulled you over.

The car park was virtually empty, so naturally I took up two spaces because I don't have the ability to park properly. I'm not usually one to get nervous, particularly when frozen yogurt is involved, but I felt slightly apprehensive while approaching the shop door. I wondered what my co-workers would be like? Hopefully not attractive and gay. I do clearly have a type.

The shop was deserted apart from two people behind the counter. One, a man, stood with a perplexed expression on his bearded face as he talked on the phone. He was stocky, with broad shoulders and thick arms, his hair, brown fading to grey, was cut jaggedly and fell just above his shoulders. He glanced at me briefly and waved me in. The second was a girl who was seemingly close to my age. Her hair, dyed black, was layered and cut into a bob. Her eyes were thickly coated with eyeliner, and her slight, slender frame stood leaning over a book.

"What do you want?" She asked uninterestedly, not raising her eyes from her book, as I approached her.

"I'm Ginger." I said hesitantly, standing a couple of feet from the counter. "I'm meant to work here."

"Oh," She said, standing up straight. "I thought you were a customer."

"Are we allowed to treat customers like that?" I asked hopefully.

She shrugged and raised herself onto the counter in a sitting position. She sat cross-legged, facing me. Up close I could tell her eyeliner had most likely been applied sloppily a few days ago, making her appear permanently tired.

"I assumed you'd have red hair." She said, ignoring my question. "Seeing as your name is Ginger, and all."

"My parents are both blind." I told her seriously.

"I'm Jude." She said, ignoring me once again. "Welcome to our humble shop, we like to pride ourselves on our poor customer service and terrible product."

"Why did you decide to work here?" I asked her curiously.

"I have a college degree and nothing else." She told me with a sigh. "After college I couldn't afford to live anywhere else except with my parents."

"I didn't even get _into_ college." I said, slightly relieved that someone with a college degree was in the same position I was.

"Are all your friends going away?" She asked with mild curiosity, leaning back on her elbows.

"Just the one." I mumbled, looking down at my unlaced shoes.

"I think it's time for a cigarette break." She told me, jumping down from the counter.

I followed her to the front of the shop, where she turned the sign on the door to 'closed.' I glanced back at the bearded man over my shoulder, wondering if he even worked here.

"Can't he look after the shop?" I asked her quietly as I followed her out the door.

"You mean Barry?" She said, glancing at him through the window. "No, he's quite useless. Only really knows how to use the phone, and he just calls his girlfriend most of the time."

I watched her lean back on the window and light a cigarette, before she offered me the pack.

"Er, no thanks." I said stupidly. "I'm trying to quit."

"I'm not trying to use the power of peer pressure or anything." She told me, a smile breaking over her face for the first time. She placed the pack into her shirt pocket and patted it fondly. "It's probably a good thing you don't smoke. Not for health reasons or anything like that, just because Barry always steals mine and I can hardly scrape up enough cash to buy more."

She exhaled a puff of smoke as a man approached the store; I noticed she was eyeing him suspiciously. As though she was hoping he wasn't a customer.

"Excuse me," He asked politely. "Are you open?"

"Get lost." She told him quite abruptly, before I could say anything.

"How does the store make any money?" I asked, a little curiously, as the man walked away, sending Jude furious glances over his shoulder.

"I have no idea, I sincerely hope the business goes under so I don't have to work here anymore." She said, clearly uninterested in the subject. "Tell me more about you, though. I know you don't smoke, have blonde hair, and possibly work here. Do you have a boyfriend or anything like that?"

"Why, are you interested?" I asked her jokingly, until I saw her monotonous expression continue to be blank. "I went on a date last night, I suppose."

"You _suppose_ you went on a date?" She asked doubtfully, inhaling.

"I did go on a date last night." I corrected myself. "However, I am also convinced I am in love with my gay best friend."

"Tough." She said genuinely, before making a face. "Who did you go on a date with?"

"His name is Seth." I attempted to say nonchalantly.

"Seth Clearwater?" She asked in surprise. I looked at her curiously, only to be met with a calculating look. "He's huge, gangly, and smiles a lot, right?"

I nodded, watching as Jude brought the cigarette up to her lips and inhaled. She had a perplexed, knowing look on her face, which made me a little curious. When she noticed me watching, she stubbed her cigarette out under her foot and turned to me.

"I'm good friends with his sister," She said, before correcting herself. "I suppose I'm a family friend too."

"You know Seth's sister?" I asked. "I thought she left town."

"Luckily there are these things called telephones and the Internet, however outdated it might be in this town." She said, giving me what I assumed to be a characteristic roll of the eye. "Seth is a good guy though."

"I know." I mumbled as I followed her into the store, flipping the sign to 'open.'


	8. The Job

_Author's Note: __**A couple of good questions were raised by a reviewer (Ana) on the last two chapters**__, and I thought I'd take the time to answer them to help everyone understand. (1) Was the cliff diving relevant? I'd like to think so. I tried to incorporate a bit of symbolism; water is symbolic of purity and renewal. By cliff diving with Seth, Ginger is essentially attempting to 'cleanse' her feelings for Magus and take the risk of falling in love with someone else. (2) Shouldn't Ginger's first day at work be more eventful? Yes, which is why this chapter continues where the last chapter left off. Jude is an important part of the plot, which was why the last chapter revolved around her and how she knows Seth and Leah. However, I'm thinking about not including a lot of chapters involving Ginger's work because how exciting can a frozen yogurt shop be? And finally, (3) Short chapter length? I do apologize for this, which was why I updated two chapters in a short amount of time – hopefully this chapter is a bit longer. Thanks for asking questions because I can't really go discuss the symbolism and plot within the story, so I really appreciate feedback such as what Ana has asked. As for this chapter, I'm afraid nothing really important happens, just character development and all that bothersome stuff._

* * *

"Essentially," Jude said, returning to her sitting position on the counter, still smelling of cigarette smoke. "There are a few things you need to know about this job."

"Like work ethic?" I asked sarcastically, which caused a rare smile from Jude.

"Firstly," She began. "Cheerfulness is discouraged, particularly if you do not wish to be as disliked as Barry is."

At the mention of his name, bearded Barry glanced up from his phone call and gave Jude a hearty wave. She turned to me with an expression of disgust, as if to prove her point.

"Additionally, rudeness towards customers is encouraged, in hopes of them never returning." She said with an almost pleased expression. "Then we don't have to deal with them again."

She paused briefly to take a small flask out of her pocket, unwinding the top. She took a swig, grimacing slightly at the taste, before offering the flask to Barry, who accepted it without question. Previously, I had assumed I was the most immoral person on the entire planet, until I watched Jude take a second swig.

"Finally," She said. "Day drinking, nudity, and shenanigans are all tolerable."

I raised my eyebrows, wondering if drinking, nudity, and shenanigans were consistent occurrences. By Jude's third sip from the flask, I assumed they were. I speculated that I might actually enjoy working at the frozen yogurt shop; despite the product I was meant to sell.

Barry, who I had not properly met yet, hung up the phone and let out a resigned sigh. Jude and I both ignored him, which caused him to sigh louder, as though expecting us to ask him what was wrong. I awkwardly looked at my shoes while Jude pointedly looked anywhere but Barry.

"Aren't you going to ask me what's wrong?" He said sadly.

"Definitely not." Jude told him, going back to her book.

He sighed again, and placed his head on the counter. I eyed Barry uneasily, before looking at Jude. She shook her head as a warning sign, so I said nothing.

"It's just so hard!" He exclaimed without prompting.

"What is, Barry?" Jude asked in a flat, resigned voice.

"Relationships." He told her. "I wouldn't expect you to know, Jude, seeing as you resist human interaction."

"I suppose you were on the phone to your girlfriend?" She said, seemingly unoffended by his remark.

"She doesn't want me living with her and her mother anymore." He said, looking glum. "It's so unfair, isn't it?"

"How old are you?" I asked, surprised that he was living with someone's mother.

"Thirty-five." Jude told me, smirking.

I glanced worriedly at Barry, expecting a grim look into my future, just without having a beard, hopefully. Thirty-five, living with his girlfriend and her mother, and working at a frozen yogurt shop, which, essentially, is probably just as bad as being unemployed. The difference between Barry and I, however, is that it is highly unlikely someone will want to be in a relationship with me when I am in my thirties.

"And thoroughly depressed." Barry finished, still face down on a counter that had probably not been cleaned in weeks.

"Is that hygienic?" I asked curiously, eyeing the counter.

"No, he's not." Jude told me. "I don't think he's showered in a couple of weeks."

"How can I shower when I have a broken heart?" He asked pathetically.

"Quite easily." I tell him kindly. "You just turn on a tap or two."

Jude sighed, giving up on her book to give Barry a few sympathetic slaps on the back. She passed him her flask and doesn't look too concerned when he chugs a majority of it. He pulled a face so vile; I assumed he was about to spray vomit everywhere. When I gave Jude and alarmed look she just smirked and tapped her nose.

"He'll pass out soon, thankfully." She whispered to me.

The bell above the shop door twinkled and Jude shot a very displeased look over my shoulder. She lowered herself from the counter and stared blankly at whoever was behind me. I turned curiously to see a young couple eyeing me.

"Are you in line?" The woman asked kindly.

"No," I told her flatly. "I'm meant to work here."

Her smile faltered a little and she gave the man next to her a nervous look. "Can we order?"

"Right." I said, suddenly realizing that I was getting paid for things like this. "What would you like?"

"I'll have a Chocolate," She said, pausing briefly to shoot a look at the man next to her. "And he'll have a Strawberry."

"Two Chocolates please, Jude." I said.

"No." The man said worriedly. "A Strawberry _and _a Chocolate."

"What he said, Jude." I told her cheerfully.

Jude let out a resigned sigh and busied herself behind the counter. I attempted to observe her, just in case I actually had to do any work at some point, but found myself more occupied with Barry. He was staring blankly at the couple and swaying side to side slightly. I watched in wonder as his legs gave way and he fell to the floor, apparently passed out. Jude, who was presumably accustomed to things like this, did not react to Barry's sudden unconsciousness. She instead passed the man and the woman two cups of frozen yogurt with a smile.

"Two Chocolates." She said.

Unsurprisingly, they paid quickly and left without saying a word. Jude, looking relieved, gave Barry, who was still unconscious, a sympathetic look.

"I suppose we better move him before somebody assumes we killed him." She said with a resigned sigh. "Although, why wouldn't we?"

Jude and I managed to drag Barry into the storeroom, despite his seemingly inhuman weight. Jude made sure to bump his head into many inanimate objects along the way. We dropped his arms and Jude kicked his feet out of the doorway so we could shut it behind him. Jude, seeming exhausted by the task, raised a cigarette up to her mouth and lit it.

"Are you meant to smoke inside?" I asked curiously.

"Technically, for health and safety reasons, no." She said, flicking a bit of ash onto the floor. "However, Barry is currently passed out in the storeroom so it doesn't really matter. Yet, speaking of why Barry doesn't matter, I have an excellent idea."

"What is it?" I asked apprehensively, as I saw the manic glint in her eyes.

"Human Bowling." She said.

"Human Bowling?" I repeated, disbelievingly.

Jude, however, failed to answer me. She had already made her way to the storeroom, carefully tripping over Barry as she did so, and returned carrying a mop and bucket. She handed them to me, ordering me to make the floor as wet as possible. She then jumped behind the counter to retrieve a large quantity of cups that were used to serve frozen yogurt.

"Basically," She told me, inhaling from her cigarette and beginning to stack the cups on the floor. "All you have to do is mop the floor until it's slippery, and then you have to transform into a human bowling ball and knock over as many cups as you can."

"Right." I said. "I'm not entirely sure what a human bowling ball is though."

She silently handed her cigarette to me, which I held as far away from my face as possible. I watched her contemplate the wet floor before making a mad dash at the empty yogurt cups. This, however, resulted in her losing her balance and toppling over just before she reached them.

"Almost." She said triumphantly.

"What are you doing?" An alarmed voice asked from behind us.

I spun around, feeling a little sheepish to be caught doing something so ridiculously dangerous, especially seeing as I was the only sober one in the store. Technically I should know better, but lacked the mental cognition to do so. I was surprised, however, to see Seth standing at the door, doing that thing with his eyebrows that makes them recede into his hairline.

"Bowling." Jude said simply from the floor, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I stood up straight, and narrowed my eyes at him. I wasn't entirely sure if he had taken to climbing into the back of my car to accompany me everywhere, but I knew I hadn't told him where I worked. I turned to give Jude a quizzical look, but, after she had picked herself off the floor, she held up her mobile at me innocently. It seems that I wasn't the only one with Seth's number.

"Are you following me again?" I asked, trying to sound irritated, despite how pleased I was to see him.

"Honestly, I'm only here to buy – what is it you sell again?" Seth asked, grinning.

"Frozen yogurt." Jude said dully.

"Oh." He said, nose wrinkling up in disgust. "No thanks."

"You could join in the bowling fun?" Jude suggested.

"That seems less appealing than frozen yogurt, which is saying a lot." He said. "I was wondering what time you finished, actually?"

Obviously, because I am hormonal and possibly superficial, I couldn't help but recognize how attractive Seth looked. He was wearing those cut-off jeans that he seemed to almost live in, not like I was complaining about that though, and a loose white shirt. His hair was a little wet from the rain, but he was smiling regardless.

"Whenever we want, I suppose." Jude said thoughtfully. "Barry is meant to be supervising, but he, however, is currently passed out in the storeroom."

"That seems highly irresponsible." Seth said, although he didn't look too bothered about it.

"Do we have to clean this up?" I asked, gesturing towards the floor.

Jude gave me an unimpressed look, before shaking her head and moving off to collect her belongings. Seth took the opportunity to move closer to me and bump his shoulder against mine. Despite the rain outside, he radiated heat.

"That's physical assault." I told him, but couldn't help but smile.

"Did you have a good first day?" He asked kindly.

"I've learned a lot about disrespecting customers." I said thoughtfully.

"That seems valuable." He said, giving me a goofy grin. "Do you want to come back to mine? Jude will probably come too, seeing as she's a family friend."

I gave Seth an enthusiastic nod as Jude joined us by the door, store keys in hand. She flipped the sign to 'closed' and locked the door behind us. As we made our way into the car park, Jude lit a cigarette to celebrate getting through another workday.

"Should we leave Barry in the storeroom?" I asked Jude in alarm, realizing our co-worker was still out cold and locked inside the store.

"Well," She shrugged, looking unconcerned. "It's not like he has anywhere else to stay."


	9. The Mud

_Author's Note: This chapter is a little important, but I'm not too happy with it. But really, when am I ever happy with a chapter? Thanks for the reviews though, I'm incredibly lucky to have readers who actually seem quite excited to read this story. Sorry this took a little while to come out, I'm in the middle of making and selling some of my art, so things have been a bit busy. Hope you enjoy it though._

* * *

I was elected the designated driver because I wasn't intoxicated like Jude, and didn't seem to walk everywhere like Seth. My car lurched down the wet roads, rain sprinkling noisily against the car roof, as the thick canopy of forest passed us. Seth, although useless at giving directions, eventually led us to a small wood panel house, painted a cheerful yellow.

It was perched on the edge of the woods, which, wild and untamed, threatened to swallow the house. Similarly to my house, the porch was littered with pot plants and ferns, which, unlike mine, appeared to be well cared for.

"Quaint, isn't it?" Seth said with a wink as he caught me admiring it.

I shot him a smile, reminded of our second encounter, and climbed out the car. It was typical Seth lived so close to the forest, he did seem to enjoy trees an awful lot.

Jude, seeming completely at home, kicked off her shoes at the front door and let herself in. I watched her in disbelief, wondering if she actually knew Seth's family that well, or if she was entirely informal on all occasions. I was almost surprised she was wearing shoes in the first place. Seth, following my gaze, gave me a slight shrug.

"Can you really expect any differently when Jude is involved?" He asked.

"You're right, actually." I said thoughtfully. "I'm really quite surprised she hasn't taken her clothes off yet."

"Don't say that too loudly," Seth told me, a frightened look on his face. "We don't want her to actually take her clothes off."

"Speak for yourself." I said, giving him a suggestive wink when he turned to me with a horrified expression.

Like Jude, Seth pulled his shoes off at the front door, only clumsier. While jumping around on one foot, he ended up bumping into me, which only exacerbated things. When his mum emerged through the front door, she gave Seth a worried expression as she eyed us both sprawled on the ground.

"At least wait until you're inside to do anything like _that." _She said, although she was smiling.

"Hello, I'm Ginger." I said, trying my best to seem charming as I awkwardly picked myself up off the floor.

"I know. Call me Sue." She said, shaking my hand. "Come in and make yourself at home."

The inside of Seth's house was warm and had a sense of welcoming that my house seemed to lack. The walls were all painted brightly, and photographs of Seth and a girl, who was presumably his sister, were hung on almost ever inch of the wall. The furniture was worn and mismatched, which only seemed to add to the character of the house.

"You used to be quite cute." I told Seth absentmindedly as I peered at a photograph of a younger him.

"Used to be?" He said, clearly offended.

I gave him an apologetic grin as we made our way further into the house, continuing our search for Jude who had apparently disappeared. We eventually found her rummaging through the fridge in the kitchen, predictably.

"Don't eat all the good stuff." Seth moaned at her, looking genuinely upset.

"You don't have any good stuff in the food department." She told him, emerging empty handed. "I was looking for something in the way of alcoholic beverages."

"We have wine in the cupboard above the fridge." Sue said helpfully, unconcerned by Jude's apparent alcoholism.

"Wine?" I said. "That's so _adult_."

"You are an adult." Jude told me, an eyebrow raised.

"Not really." I muttered.

Being an adult was something I couldn't entirely comprehend. Owning a home and paying taxes wasn't something I was particularly looking forward to, and, if possible, something I would like to avoid entirely. I rarely brushed my hair regularly, and would not be able to take care of myself. In fact, I would be completely happy if I could spend the rest of my life hopping hedges and waking up at midday.

Jude was pouring wine into cups, because Sue did not entirely trust us with her wine glasses, understandably. She handed one to me and the other to Seth.

"To adulthood." She toasted. "And bowling."

"Right." Seth said uncertainly before taking a sip.

"I don't want to be apart of this." Sue said, with a sigh. "So I'm heading over to Charlie's for a while. I'll see you tomorrow, Seth."

Seth allowed his mother to kiss his cheek, which would have been quite nice if Jude wasn't draining her glass of wine and pouring another at the same time.

"I can't wait until Jude passes out." Seth muttered to me, after his mother had left.

"Is this apart of your master murder plan?" I said back to him.

"Obviously." He told me, rolling his eyes. "What did you think of my mum?"

He looked quite anxious, as though he genuinely wanted me to like his mother. I gave him a reassuring smile because obviously Sue was great, but also because he was looking at me with his big brown eyes that could never let you disappoint him.

"She's lovely." I told him. "Plus, if anyone gives me free alcohol, I'm bound to like them."

"Shall we take this party outside?" Jude interrupted, leaning on the kitchen bench.

"You do realize it's raining, right?" I asked her.

"Obviously." She said, staring at me as though I was mentally deficient. "How else would we have a mud fight?"

"A mud fight?" Seth said, incredulously.

"Yes, a mud fight." Jude explained slowly, as though she were talking to children. "What's the problem? Ginger is apparently not an adult, I'm quite intoxicated, and you're meant to be the fun one. Also because I can smoke outside."

"Can't argue with that." I told Seth with a shrug, already understanding that it was best to just go along with Jude's strange shenanigans.

In what appeared to be the most eventful and bizarre day of my life, I followed Jude and Seth to the backyard. The ground was soft and wet between my toes, the rain making my shirt cling to my back, and I was reminded of my childhood where there was a constant rain and I never wore shoes. The sky was dim, the setting sun swallowed by the clouds, making it difficult to determine the indistinct outlines of Jude and Seth. This, however, was resolved when one figure, presumably Jude as I could see the faint glow of a lit cigarette, sent a huge pile of mud flying towards my face.

I was able to avoid it hitting my face, but it still ended up clumped and matted into my hair. I let out a shocked squeal, and scooped up two handfuls of mud, aiming at Jude. Some of it hit Seth, who looked quite offended that I had been the one who had hit him.

"Accidental?" I offered.

Seth, however, did not seem to take kindly to being splattered with mud for some reason. He was already digging up a large amount from the ground, so I took my chance to sprint away, as much as I disliked physical activity. Like all my attempts at exercise, however, it ended terribly when I managed to slip and fall face-first into the mud.

When the cold evening air began to sting with coldness and none of us could see properly, we decided to retreat to the house. We were all exhausted and covered in mud, but agreed that throwing things at each other could be quite enjoyable.

"Mum will probably kill herself if she sees the mud inside." Seth said a little worriedly as he looked at our muddy footprints staining the kitchen tiles.

"I am quite good with a mop, as I discovered today." I said helpfully, feeling a little guilty as I looked at the floor.

"That's alright." Seth told me with a grin. "You and Jude can have first shower. Also, feel free to borrow a shirt or something, seeing as your clothes are covered in mud and smell pretty bad."

"Great." I told him. "This will be the first shower I've had in months."

"I'm going to presume that's a joke." Seth said a little anxiously.

I gave him a wink as I followed Jude down the hall to the bathroom. The hallway, like almost every other surface in the house, was covered in photos of Seth and his sister. It was quite unusual seeing a functional family, as my own wasn't. The bathroom was quite small, but I could see all of Seth's belongings scattered along the bathroom counter, making it seem even more cluttered than it really was.

"Shaving cream." I muttered to Jude, sounding surprised as I examined it.

"Facial hair tends to grow." She told me mockingly before disappearing somewhere and returning with two shirts.

She turned on the taps and hopped under the water, fully clothed. I joined her, the warm water stinging as it touched my cold skin. I watched the layers of mud, caked to our clothes, retreat down the drain.

"You and Seth make quite a good couple." Jude told me conversationally as the water drenched her. "Especially when you're throwing mud at each other."

"I'm sure that was quite picturesque." I said sarcastically as I washed the mud off my feet.

"Are you dating yet?" She asked quite bluntly.

"Well, we have been on a date." I said thoughtfully. "So technically, I suppose so."

She made an effort to wash a majority of the mud from her hair, but eventually gave up and got out of the shower, leaving it to me. I heard her peel the wet clothes off her skin and get changed into one of Seth's shirts. She paused at the doorway, however, and lowered her voice to speak to me.

"I think he is definitely in love with you." She said quietly. "And you should be definitely in love with him."

The door shut behind her, and I stood in thought, the water running down my back. I doubted Seth loved me, as it was hardly possible to watch someone catapult out of a window and fall in love with them. Just as impossible it was to listen to me talk and fall in love with me. I did have an incredibly obnoxious mouth after all. I suppose he liked me, seeing as jumped off a cliff with me and threw mud at me. Although, those weren't promising signs. I did wonder why he liked me though, it wasn't like I was clever, or attractive, or even really that nice. In fact, I wasn't even able to get into college, and I work at a frozen yogurt store. Additionally, I had never had a boyfriend before, seeing as I was too busy convincing myself I was in love with my gay best friend. If those weren't warning signs, I didn't know what was. However, I was here, and he had invited me, so that had to count for something.

After turning off the taps, I climbed out of the shower. I peeled off all my soaked clothes, except for my underwear, and hung them over the towel rail. I dried myself off as well as I could and pulled Seth's shirt over my head. It came down to my mid thigh, and smelled all woodsy and boyish. I couldn't help feel a little giddy and pleased that I was wearing an actual boy's shirt.

Walking to the kitchen, I couldn't help but glance at all the photos of Seth again. I had the strange urge to steal one and keep it.

I found Seth alone, glumly mopping up the last of the mud. His head shot up as I walked in, and I noticed his eyes travel up my legs and hesitate at my thigh. Usually, I would feel uncomfortable by something like that, but Seth's eyes seemed so innocent. As though it were the first time he had seen bare skin. I simply cocked an eyebrow and grinned when he blushed. He was like a schoolboy.

"Where's Jude?" I asked curiously.

"Pretty sure she passed out in the spare bedroom." He said.

"Well," I said, trying not to think that we had the house to ourselves. "The shower is free."

"You can hang out in my bedroom while you wait." He said self-consciously as he put away the mop. "There's music and that sort of thing, if you're interested in that."

"Who isn't interested in music?" I asked him.

"Deaf people, presumably." He said as he led me to his bedroom. "I won't be long."

Like Magus's room, Seth's had that recognizable boy scent. It was kind of musky, but Seth's room also had that strong woodsy smell, just like his shirt. It was painted a deep green, and gave the impression that it was usually messy, but had been hurriedly cleaned. Clothes had been hastily shoved into draws, books stacked into uneven piles, and CDs and records were scattered across the floor. Seth's walls were almost completely covered in drawings, posters, and pictures. There were photographs of when he was little, one arm around his scowling sister, and more recent photographs of him and whom I vaguely recognized as his friends from the party. I even found one of a younger Jude, Seth, and his sister, Jude had less eyeliner and was actually smiling.

I flicked through Seth's records and eventually put on one by The Smiths. I was surprised that we had such similar music taste, my favorite artists were all there; The Smiths, Sonic Youth, The Velvet Underground, Radiohead, The Pixies, and The Moldy Peaches. I sat on the edge of his bed and picked up the book on his bedside table, a John Fowles book I was particularly fond of.

"I love this song." Seth said softly from the doorway as 'I Know It's Over' played.

"You have decent music taste." I told him approvingly as he sat down next to me.

"My dad got me into The Smiths." He said thoughtfully.

"Oh." Was all I said because I didn't want to pry.

"You can ask about him if you'd like." He simply told me.

"Where's your dad?" I asked him, without seeming too desperate to know.

"Died of a heart attack when I was about fifteen." He told me looking at his hands. "It was pretty hard on everyone, especially my sister. She was quite different after that, withdrawn really. She still is on the few times I get to see her."

"What about you though?" I asked, placing a hand over his fidgeting ones.

"Obviously I miss him." He said thoughtfully. "But my mum and I were able to adjust after time. Mum is quite strong in that sense, but I'm glad she has Charlie, her fiancé, now."

His expression was very soft and emotional, and I had the strongest urge to kiss him, just to see his smile turn up in that grin he always seems to have.

"Who do you have?" I asked him quietly.

"My friends." He said before hesitating. "And you, I hope."

"You do have me." I told him reassuringly.

That was all it took for him to shoot me a grin, but I still wanted to kiss him anyway. I didn't though, because I doubted talking about his deceased father really got Seth in the mood for something like that. He eventually turned off the light and we crawled under the covers, talking about whatever came to mind. He asked me questions, as though he were interested in every insignificant detail about me, and I asked him about his family, his friends and his habit of leaping out from behind trees.

I felt myself drifting into the arms of sleep eventually, Seth's soft words fading as my vision blurred black and my breathing became deeper. Before I was completely out, however, I could have sworn I felt a warm hand brush the hair off my face.

I woke early, and was reminded of waking up next to Magus, only a few days ago. The sky was still dim, and filtered its shadowy light through Seth's curtains. I could make out the gentle expression and soft features that shaped Seth's face. His face, inches from mine, seemed almost child-like when in slumber. I could feel his warm breath tickle my cheek, and his large hand, inches from mine.

Slowly rising into a sitting position, I clutched my head, and shot a glance at Seth. He had not stirred, and seemed still deeply asleep. I made my way across the room to find a spare scrap of paper and a pen, where I hastily scrawled a note of apology, thanking him for allowing me over and promising I would return his shirt at some point. I retrieved my almost dry clothes from the bathroom and quietly made my way out the front door, the cold air stinging against my bare legs.

Still barefoot, I hopped awkwardly through his garden to my car, where I turned on the outdated heating immediately and pulled out of his driveway. The drive back was quiet, with a sprinkle of rain pattering against the roof, and the green scenery never fading from sight. I arrived home just a little past six, when the rain had reached a downpour.

I entered my house, closing the door quietly and attempting, but failing, to avoid tripping over the clutter of shoes at the door. The living room, cast in a shadowy light from the early morning sun, seemed strangely ominous, as though something was not right. I paused at the entryway, cautiously glancing around the dim room.

My eyes caught on the armchair, positioned in the corner of the room, looking too bumpy and slumped over to be an armchair, causing the it to seem surreal and indistinct. My feet took tentative and unwilling steps closer, enlarging the odd shape, until my eyes adjusted to the dim light. I crouched down beside the chair, hands shaking, eyes out of focus, as I stared at the unmoving figure next to me.

The figure, slumped over, stared into its lap, heavy eyelids drooping downwards. Its chest did not rise and fall, its hands lay still, limp.

"Gran?" I whispered.


	10. The Rain

_Author's Note: Sadly this will be our last chapter until the end of July, as I am going on holiday in Europe and will be too busy absorbing culture/enjoying myself to find access to a computer. I didn't want to leave you on a cliff hanger, so I managed to write this, but I'll have to apologise for the shortness of this chapter. In the meantime, it would be really lovely if you sent me a juicy review. Thanks!_

* * *

"Gran?" I whispered.

I gingerly touched her wrinkled palm. It was cool, as though she had been dead for hours. He ancient face, cast in a glimpse of sadness, had been eternally frozen. She looked the way I felt, lost, empty, gone.

I had never been spectacular at making decisions, even if it was simply choosing which socks to wear, let alone what to do when someone dies. Nobody I had even known had died, except for the woman sitting only inches from me. I couldn't feel anything, any emotion, apart from shock. It felt wrong to touch her cold hands, to peer into her eyes, which seemed to gaze into nothing. The entire situation was wrong.

I stood up too quickly and almost lost my balance, unable to notice how violently my legs were shaking. I held my hands up to my face, realizing they were trembling until they blurred. The room felt as though it were closing in, or as though the air was being sucked out of it. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I did the only thing I could do and left, just as quietly as I had entered.

My legs managed to make their way outside, where I found myself sitting on the porch steps. The rain seemed to find every surface of my skin, but I wanted to experience it. I felt asleep, as though I could still be lying next to Seth, and what had happened might not have happened. I wanted to be next to him; safe, warm and happy forever.

I thought of him, and wondered about his smile. His smile which didn't seem forced, even though he had experienced so much pain. The death of his father, leaving behind two children and a grieving widow in his wake. And his sister, disappearing just as suddenly as his father. I couldn't grasp how one person could overcome so much pain, and still be open to love, despite losing everything.

Each raindrop cut through my skin and reminded me with such beautiful pain that I was here, and that someone was dead, but I was still alive. It reminded me of Molly, still asleep, who did not need to see what I had. Molly, who was horrible but lovely in her own way. Molly, who could hardly remember who her parents were, and depended entirely on her Gran. The cold, the numbness, it reminded me that I would be the one who Molly would have to depend on.

The thought of Molly, who was still so young, and the thought of Seth, who was strong and reliable, were what made me find my feet. The wetness continued to cling to me even when I was inside, even when I walked past the living room without looking in, and even when I was in the kitchen, fingers punching a number on the telephone.

It was still early. Early enough for a distant ring of a telephone to convey only grim news. I didn't know if he would pick up, but all I knew was that I needed him. On what seemed like the last ring before the dial tone, he answered.

"Hello?" I asked shakily into the silence.

"Ginger?" Seth said, a distinct tone of panic and sleepiness in his voice. "Ginger? Is everything okay?"

"Seth?" I asked in a small voice, feeling relieved just to hear him speak.

"Ginger, what's wrong?" He said, his tone gentler, but the hint of panic was still distinct.

"Something has happened." I told him, unable to get the right words out. "Something is wrong."

"Are _you _okay?" He asked urgently.

"Physically, I suppose so." I said, trying not to peer around the corner into the living room.

"That's hardly encouraging." He told me, but his tone seemed to relax slightly.

The walls felt as though they were about to close in again, so I shut my eyes. The darkness seemed to encourage me, to consume me. His quiet breath on the other end of the receiver made my lungs feel gigantic, as though his air was connected to mine.

"I came home," I began, trying to sound calm. "And I found my Gran. She's, Seth, she's-"

My voice cracked at the end, and the tears started. Big, fat tears, rolling down my face, dripping off my chin and falling in my mouth. It was the type of crying that you couldn't stop, the type that made you feel as though, when it was over, you were barren and shriveled because there was no water left in your body.

"Ginger?" Seth was almost yelling on the other end of the receiver. He sounded pained, as though he felt the same way I did.

"Give me a second." I managed to croak into the receiver, before burring my head in my hands.

When the tears began to slow I placed the receiver against my ear.

"Dead." I told him. "She's dead."

There was a strange silence on the other end of the phone, as though he weren't there, but I knew he was. It seemed to be the silence you fall into when you're thinking, or concentrating, very hard. I twirled the cord around my finger, and thought of the last time I was on the phone to Seth.

"Ginger," I could hear his soft, gentle tone. "I'm really sorry that this has happened to you."

"Thanks, I suppose." I told him, smiling only a little.

"Do you want me to call the hospital?" He asked, tone still quiet. "You'll need someone to pronounce her… You know."

"Yes please." I said.

"Can I come over?" He asked, urgency in his voice.

"Please." I repeated.

When the dial tone sounded I realized he was gone, so I placed the phone on the hook, staring at it. The silence of the house threatened to consume me, so I did the only thing I could. I placed the kettle on and got out two cups and teabags. Anything but venturing into the living room could make this situation bearable. I left Seth's mug empty and poured myself a cup when the kettle clicked. The tea was too milky and cold to be considered good, but I managed to drink two cups anyway.

When I heard the crunch of tires on the driveway, I was running towards the front door. It had felt like hours since the phone call, but I knew he'd never keep me waiting that long. My bare feet slapped against the muddy ground, and although it had stopped raining, my face was wet. But I could see him, forehead knotted in concern, still in the clothes he had slept in. I could see him, standing with his arms open, so I ran to them, slamming against his torso. He overwhelmed me with his warmth; it cocooned me against his chest, his hands entwined in my hair. I breathed in his scent, my head against his heart, and I cried.

I cried and he held me, even when it stated to sprinkle with rain again.


End file.
